HANNAH

I was a red-eyed zombie at work the next morning, where again I was glad it was Pete sharing my shift and not Georgia since I felt like a scarlet letter was branded on my forehead. The one thing I felt unadulterated joy about was that I got my period this afternoon. Thank God, I thought. Could I blame PMS for any of this craziness?

For once, I was glad it was Lenore who answered my knock when I went to get Abby. But when she invited me in for iced tea, I hesitated. I couldn’t handle seeing Wes. Not yet.

“If you’re too busy for tea, maybe another time.”

“No, no. I’m not too busy. I just… I was just thinking.” About banging your son. No, the other one. I tried to shove the image out of my mind. “I’d like to come in for tea, thank you.” The last thing I wanted was to give Lenore any ammunition against me when things seemed to be going better between us. And Wes and I couldn’t avoid each other forever.

Abby was in the great room playing Barbies on the coffee table. “Hi, Mommy!”

“Hi, sweetie.” I went over and gave her a quick hug. “Did you have a good night?”

“Mmhm. And we made the pancakes again this morning!”

“We did,” Lenore said. “And she’s such a big help to her Nana in the kitchen!”

“Good girl.” I ruffled her hair and followed Lenore into the kitchen, where she took a pitcher of homemade sweet tea from the fridge and poured us both a glass.

“How’s business at the inn?” she asked, sticking the pitcher back in the fridge.

“Good.” I took a seat at the island, glancing at the corner where Wes and I had shared crepes last weekend. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

“Hannah?” Lenore was looking at me quizzically, and I realized she’d asked me a question.

“I’m sorry. I got distracted. What did you say?”

“I wondered if you’ll take some time off now that summer is over.” She began pulling things from the pantry and fridge—flour, garlic powder, salt and pepper, eggs.

“Probably not until closer to November. I think they’ll need me up until then.”

“Who takes Abby to school in the mornings?”

I’d already answered this question a hundred times. “I did this week, since it was her first, and I went into work a little later, but my sitter will take her from now on when I work. Then I’m off in time to pick her up, take her to her afternoon activities, do her reading and math homework.”

“Homework!” Lenore squawked, cracking an egg into a bowl. “Who gives homework in kindergarten?”

I shrugged and sipped the sugary tea. “I think all schools give at least some. It’s not too much. I think it’s good for her to start learning the routine now.”

“That’s ridiculous.” Lenore sniffed and dumped another egg into the bowl. “Kids her age don’t need homework or scheduled activities. They need fresh air and play time and good meals and sleep, that’s all.”

I took another drink rather than reply. No sense arguing with Lenore. “Is Doc at work today?”

“He and Wes went to the hospital for rounds this morning, and then he was taking Wes to get his car. Apparently the boy had a few too many beers last night in town and one of the Valentinis had to drive him home. Honestly.” She clucked her tongue as she beat the eggs with a little water. “You’d think he’d know better. But I suppose he deserves a good time, he’s worked so hard and been through so much. I’m really hoping he’ll settle here, get married, have a family. Otherwise, I’m a little worried he’ll get antsy and take off again.”

I tried to imagine how I would feel when Wes began dating someone, and was surprised by the vicious punch of jealousy in my gut. I had no right to feel jealous of anyone he chose to date.

But the thought of his hands on another woman’s body made me want to vomit.

“I should go,” I said, quickly dumping the rest of my tea in the sink. Maybe I couldn’t avoid him forever, but I could avoid him today. In my current emotional state, it seemed wise.

I was about to make my way into the great room to collect Abby when the side door opened and Wes stepped into the kitchen. We locked eyes. My stomach filled with butterflies. I couldn’t breathe.

But it wasn’t the panic attack of last night. It was an airy, exhilarating feeling, a balloon of joy inside me at the mere sight of him. I wanted to see him, I realized. Of course I did.

“Hey,” he said, dropping his keys on the counter. “How are you?”

Miserable.

“Fine,” I said, a little too loudly. I ran a hand over the hastily-done braid at the back of my head. He looked perfect in gray dress pants and a white button-down with the sleeves cuffed, and I felt totally unkempt with my messy hair and work jeans and flour-dusted red T-shirt. Not to mention my puffy eyes and sleep-deprived complexion. “How are you?”

“Fine.” His eyes told me differently.

Don’t look at me that way, Wes. It makes me weak.

I broke the stare and mumbled something about getting Abby home, then left the kitchen on wobbly legs. Lenore invited us to come back for fried chicken later, but I made some excuse as to why we couldn’t, and Wes didn’t try to argue. Taking Abby by the hand, I slipped out the front door without looking back. Keep moving. Just keep moving.

I buckled Abby in, shut the door, got in the driver’s seat, buckled myself in, and burst into tears.

“What’s wrong, Mommy?” asked Abby from the back seat.

Good God. Where would I even start?

“Nothing, baby. Just having a bad day.” I pulled myself together and started the engine, meeting her eyes in the rearview so she wouldn’t be scared. “Tell me about your sleepover.”

When we got home, I sent Abby outside to play and called Tess.

“Hey. I need to talk. Got a minute?”

“Sure. What’s up?”

“I slept with Wes last night.”

At first, silence. Then, “Define slept.”

“We had sex.”

She gasped. “Where?”

“My front hallway. Abby was at his mother’s. And afterward I had a massive panic attack.”

“Oh my God. Wait, I have to go into the laundry room so the kids can’t hear me.” A moment later, I heard a door shut. “Okay, tell me everything.”

While I watched my innocent little daughter sing to herself and play on the swings, I filled Tess in on what I’d done. “I feel horrible about it.”

“You do?”

“Yes,” I said loudly, because wasn’t it obvious? “Wes is Drew’s brother.”

“That’s true,” she said gently, “but Drew is gone, Hannah. He’s not coming back.”

“I know.” I squeezed my eyes shut, and voiced the more complicated, more shameful feeling. “But I also feel horrible because I liked it. And I can’t stop thinking about it. And I wish we could do it again.” There. I’d said it out loud.

“Was it that good?”

“It was amazing, Tess. He made me feel…” I closed my eyes as chills swept down my arms and legs. “Like a different person. But somehow still myself, only more myself. Like I’d recaptured something. It was effortless and liberating.”

“I know exactly what you mean.”

“But it’s so wrong.”

“Hannah. I fucked the tree man, remember? A complete stranger.”

“That still doesn’t seem as wrong as what I did. Or why I did it.”

“Why’d you do it?”

“Because I wanted him. Him, not Drew.”

“I suspected as much the other night when you were talking about him. Your face changes. You light up. You have feelings for him Hannah, and it’s okay.”

I cringed. That wasn’t what I wanted to hear. “No. It isn’t.”

“What about him?” she challenged. “How does he feel?”

“He says it’s not about Drew for him. And then I lied and told him it was for me.”

“Why? You didn’t do anything wrong. You guys are two consenting adults who feel a connection to each other.”

“But I feel like I dishonored Drew’s memory,” I said, resting my forehead on my fingertips.

“A memory can’t keep you warm at night."

I squeezed my eyes shut against the seductive thought of Wes keeping me warm on cold winter nights. “I don’t want this, Tess. I don’t.”

“Don’t want what?”

“These feelings for him. I have to get rid of them somehow.”

“How the hell are you going to do that? You can’t put feelings out like a bonfire.”

“No, but I can stay away from him until they die out on their own.” I remembered sitting in the grocery store parking lot, making that same plan. I should have stuck to it.

“And if they don’t?”

Straightening up, I turned around and looked for Abby out the window again. “They have to.”

“There’s nothing wrong with moving on, Hannah. It’s healthy.”

“I don’t want to move on,” I said stubbornly. Not with Wes, not with any man.”

“It just seems a shame if both of you—”

“No. It’s pointless to even think about.”

She stayed silent.

I sighed. “Thanks for listening, Tess. I had to get it off my chest, and this is just too personal to share with the group.”

“Of course. I hope it made you feel better.”

“It did,” I lied.

The truth was, the more I thought about it, the worse I felt. Because as days of avoiding Wes stretched into weeks and my feelings for him didn’t subside, I grew more and more terrified that they never would. I tried everything I could to distract myself—I cleaned the house top to bottom, I baked a zillion pies, I dug out my old sewing machine and tackled the long-ignored pile of clothing that needed mending.

But nothing worked. I thought of him constantly, missed him terribly. And I couldn’t hide from him forever—Abby’s sixth birthday dinner at Lenore and Doc’s house was scheduled for the last Saturday in September, and there was no getting out of it.

I’d have to face him and act like I was okay, like what we’d done hadn’t wrecked me, like I still believed the lie I’d told him that night—that it had been about Drew for me.

I don’t believe you, he’d said.

Did he now? Did he think because I’d stayed away from him for two weeks I’d meant what I’d said? Was he hurt by that? I hated the thought that I’d caused him pain, but I was trying to protect us both.

Pain was necessary.

* * *

The Saturday of Abby’s birthday dinner was a sunny, cloudless day that didn’t match my dark, foreboding mood at all. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen. Maybe I’d have a meltdown at the dinner table and cry into my chicken and dumplings. Maybe Wes would be so mad he wouldn’t even talk to me and dinner would be a tense, silent affair. Maybe Lenore would somehow find new ways to cut away at my self-worth and I’d finally snap and flip a table.

That last one was actually kind of a satisfying thought.

We weren’t too busy at work, and Georgia and I actually found time to sit down and have a cup of coffee during late morning.

“Everything okay?” She lifted her cup to her lips with both hands.

“Yeah,” I said, but then my shoulders slumped. “No.”

She smiled. “Want to talk about it?”

Did I? While I was thinking about it, Margot came into the kitchen.

“Whew,” she said, taking a cup down and pouring coffee into it. “All gone. Kind of nice to have a slow day now and then.”

I nodded, but the slow traffic made me kind of sad, too. It meant they wouldn’t need me as much, and the start of the cold, lonely season I was dreading.

“Can I join you guys?” Margot asked.

“Of course,” I said.

She sat down and flipped her long blond braid over her shoulder. “Actually, Hannah, I’ve been wanting to talk to you about something.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. Georgia and I have been talking about a Valentini Inn cookbook for a while, a series of them actually, and we think you’d be the perfect person to start with. Maybe a breakfast edition?”

I found myself perking up a little at the thought of a creative project. “I’d love that. I mean, I don’t know anything about putting a book together, but I can supply the recipes.”

“That’s all we need,” said Georgia. “Well, that and photos, but we’re going to hire someone for that.”

“And I know someone who can take care of the design and layout for us.” Margot inhaled the aroma of her coffee before sipping it. “But I’d like you to work with her. And I’d also like you to start posting some recipes on our website.”

“I’d love to. Thanks for asking me.”

“It’s good to see you smiling,” said Georgia. “You’ve been a little down lately.”

I sighed and picked up my coffee, hoping a little caffeine buzz would lift my mood. “Yeah.”

“It’s the time of year, maybe,” Margot suggested. “It’s going to get chilly soon, and before you know it, winter is here.”

“But I love autumn,” I said, setting my cup down. “It’s not that.”

Both women looked at me with a mix of curiosity and concern. “We’re here if you need to talk,” said Margot. “No pressure, but sometimes it helps.”

“I’m just…scared about something,” I said carefully. I wasn’t planning to blurt the whole ugly truth, but maybe they were right—maybe talking about it would give me strength.

“What are you scared of?” Georgia asked.

“I’m scared of what I feel…about someone.”

They looked at each other. “You have feelings for someone?” Margot beamed. “Hannah, that’s wonderful.”

“No, it isn’t.” My eyes filled. “You wouldn’t say that if you knew who it was. Or if you knew what I’d been through.”

Margot put her hand on my arm. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I’m sure this is scary for you. I don’t mean to be insensitive.”

“You’re not insensitive.” I put my elbows on the table and rubbed my temples, taking a few deep breaths to stave off tears. “I’m just a mess. I’m sorry.”

“Is it…is it Wes?” asked Georgia hesitantly.

I closed my eyes and nodded, waiting for them to respond, half-hoping they’d go off about how inappropriate and morally wrong and just plain icky it was to have feelings for your late husband’s brother. “Go on. Tell me I’m a terrible person.”

“Oh honey, you’re not.” Margot shook her head. “We’d never think that, no matter who you had feelings for.” She paused. “Unless it was Jack. Then I might have an issue.”

I nearly smiled.

“You’re not terrible,” Georgia seconded. “You’re human. And it’s easy to see why you might develop feelings for Wes. He’s Drew’s brother. They were a lot alike in some ways. And they were identical.”

“But they were really different too,” I said. “I’ve only really just gotten to know Wes since he’s been home. We’ve talked a lot, and he’s such a great listener. A much better listener than Drew, actually. Drew loved to talk and tell jokes and be the center of attention. Wes is more quiet, more serious, maybe more intense.”

“I can see that,” Georgia said. “Drew was a life-of-the-party kind of guy, always fun, always spontaneous. But maybe that isn’t what you’re looking for this time around. Maybe at this point in your life, and after all you’ve been through, you’d appreciate a quieter life, one with fewer surprises.”

“But I wasn’t looking for anything,” I insisted. “That’s the problem. I don’t want another time around. I just want to live on my own and be a good mother to Abby.”

“Finding love again doesn’t mean you won’t be a good mother to Abby,” Margot said.

“But she’s confused about Wes as it is. She already asked me if I was sure he wasn’t her father. And what about the way people will talk? This is a small town. Can you imagine the gossip that will spread?”

Georgia shrugged. “Gossip is gossip. And yes, it’s a juicy story. People would be fascinated by it for a while and then they’d move on to something else.”

“And you can’t live your life in fear of what other people think,” Margot added. “That was a lesson I had to learn too, and trust me when I tell you you’ll be much happier if you can get over that.”

“I don’t know if I can,” I admitted. “I’m not as strong as you.”

“You are.” Margot leaned forward in her chair. “And you deserve to be happy, Hannah. Don’t you think Drew would want that for you?”

“Drew would want to protect me,” I said stubbornly. “He’d want me to be safe, and you can’t be safe when you give your heart away.”

They looked at each other again. “What does Wes say?” Georgia asked. “Does he even know how you feel?”

“No. Two weeks ago, we…I… Things got physical between us,” I blurted. My cheeks burned. “And it was amazing. But when it was over, I had a panic attack because I realized it wasn’t just physical.”

“I’m sure Wes understood,” said Margot.

“He did, but then I—I lied to him. I blamed what we’d done on being lonely and missing Drew. But it wasn’t true, and he knew it. Because he knows me.” A tear slipped down my cheek. “He said, ‘I don’t believe you.’ And then he left.”

“And you haven’t seen him since?” Margot asked, her voice rising.

I shook my head slowly. “But I will tonight. It’s Abby’s birthday dinner at Lenore and Doc’s house. He’ll be there, and I’m dreading it.”

“Oh my God. No wonder you’ve been so tense today.” Georgia’s eyes were wide. “I don’t blame you.”

“I’m sorry to unload this on you guys,” I said, getting up to grab a tissue. “You’re probably sorry you asked what was wrong.”

“Not at all,” Georgia said. “I just wish there was something we could do to help you. It’s all so sad.”

“It is sad,” I agreed, “but in the long run, I’m making the right decision.”

“Are you sure?” asked Margot.

I sat down again and blew my nose. “Yes,” I answered.

“Because I don’t think you are,” she went on. “If you were sure, you wouldn’t feel so torn about this. And I can see on your face that you’re torn.”

“No, I’m not,” I said, but my voice lacked the punch I aimed for.

“Yes, you are. And I don’t blame you.” Her voice softened. “You’ve got Abby to consider, and your situation is complicated by the fact that he’s your brother-in-law. But Hannah.” She put her hand on my arm again. “Don’t let fear hold you back. You’ll regret it.”

“But what if—”

“You’ll never be able to guard against all the what-ifs, Hannah,” said Georgia. “No one can.”

“Talk to him,” Margot said. “Just trust me. Talk to him.”

I sighed. “I’ll think about it.”

And I did—I thought about it in the shower, as I dressed for dinner, while I loaded the wrapped presents into the car, and on the short drive to the house.

But no matter how convincing or reassuring Georgia and Margot had been this afternoon, I couldn’t help feeling like I was right on the edge of some huge, frightening abyss, and one misstep would send me careening into darkness. I didn’t want to make a mistake. Wasn’t it better just to stay where I was? Take no step at all, even if it meant being lonely for the rest of my life?

As I pulled into the driveway at Lenore and Doc’s, I made up my mind. Maybe I was letting fear hold me back, and maybe I’d regret it later, but then again, maybe I wouldn’t. Maybe I’d be glad someday that I hadn’t taken the risk.

I couldn’t guard against all the what-ifs in life, but dammit, I could guard myself from this one.